


3 times Steve picked up Tony

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18645046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: The 3 times Steve Rogers picked up Tony Stark in his arms: when he had the privilege, when he lost the right, and when it was too late.





	3 times Steve picked up Tony

 

> When he had the privilege

 

“You okay?” Steve asks in concern as he stands over Tony’s prone form.

 

“Peachy. Just some technical difficulties.”

 

Steve stares down at Tony, waiting for the armor to get back up on its feet but all he gets is a resigned sigh followed by an annoyed curse. “What’s going on?”

 

“There was something weird about that EMP. The suit’s not coming back online.”

 

Concerned, Steve crouches down and presses his fingertips against Tony’s faceplate. Surely it’ll be getting hard to breathe inside the thing if the systems aren’t working. It takes him a couple of seconds to find the release Tony’d told him about. He presses the hidden button and is relieved to see the faceplate folding back.

 

Tony blinks up at him, pupils dilating as they adjust. He looks good. A little sweaty and out of breath but no injuries. It’ll probably be another story once he’s out of the suit. Steve’s learned  _that_ much about Tony Stark at least; he’ll be trying to hide his injuries if he can help it.

 

“Need some help?” Steve asks.

 

“Yeah. Gimme a hand up.”

 

The suit is surprisingly heavy but it’s still lighter from the last version. Steve can’t help but admire Tony’s ingenuity and his determination. Anyone else would look at the suit, call it the single more advanced piece of weaponry and call it a day. But Tony’s constantly tickering away at it, learning from his mistakes and making improvements.

 

Tony takes a few steps forward before stopping with a groan. “Fuck. I don’t think I’ve got the strength to walk all the way back.”

 

“You’re hurt?” Steve asks immediately, moving next to the other man’s side. Tony’s lips press together in a way that has Steve sighing. “Tony...”

 

“I’m just tired! I’m not as spry as I used to be and being thrown through two walls has got my legs sore.”

 

Steve can think of a couple of jokes to make but he refrains because he’s nice like that. Also he has the feeling if he cracks a joke about Tony’s age he’ll get swatted in the head. And might also find his next suit to be too tight around the ass, thereby causing him semi permanent wedgies. (Something that happened before because Tony Stark is a complete child).

 

At the same time however, it’s just so much  _fun_ bantering with Tony. It’s different than his jokes with Bucky or Sam. He likes teasing Tony and as irritating as it can be, seeing how Tony will retaliate is part of the fun.

 

So Steve makes the executive decision that he’s going to help Tony get back to the Quinjet by carrying him back. But not in a football carry or even as a sack of potatoes hefted over a shoulder. No. Steve’s going to be an ass about it.

 

Tony’s surprised yelp as he sweeps the man up, armor and all, in his arms draws Clint and Natasha’s attention. Clint immediately breaks down laughing, hands around his stomach as Tony squawks in distress.

 

“ _Rogers_! What the fuck?! Put me down!”

 

“But you can’t move. You needed the help,” Steve innocently points out, stepping over some debris. He hears Clint say something about Tony being a pillow princess but is quickly prodded in the side by Natasha. Steve makes a mental note to google that term later.

 

“Doesn’t mean you have to pick me up like I’m a  _princess_!” Tony yells. “I’ll make you pay for this Rogers!”

 

“Lookin’ forward to it,” Steve grins.

 

 

> When he lost the right

 

Tony rips his arc reactor off his chest, slaps it into Steve’s numb hand, and hisses, “Here, take this. You find him and you put that on. You hide.”

 

Steve doesn’t remember a lot about when he was thawed out from the ice. There’s some sense memory and a few nightmares and that’s about it. But the venom in Tony’s voice, the hurt underneath it all, freeze Steve down to his marrow. It brings back a memory of when that first wave of icy cold water had slapped him in the face.

 

He deserves this. He knows it. He broke his promise. He’d told Tony together and then walked out the door with half of the team, Tony’s family. Steve’d acted like a self righteous asshole and the universe had shown him the cost of being so terribly selfish.

 

He’d said this so many times during the war, “Leave no man behind.” And what’d he turn around and do to Tony? 

 

Tony's right; he is a liar.

 

They all jerk forward as one as Tony falls to his knees. But no one dares to touch him. Rhodey’s voice is dripping with concern as he calls out Tony’s name. 

 

“I’m fine,” Tony insists in a thready voice. But the next second, his upper body is hitting the floor. The sound of it, coupled with Tony's angry sneer, will live on forever in Steve's memory.

 

For a long moment, none of them move. They’re not sure what they  _should_ do. Thankfully. Rhodey takes point. 

 

He’s shooting off instructions that have them scrambling. “You,” Rhodey tells him, pointing first at Steve and then at Tony. “Pick him up and take him to the infirmary. Bruce’ll have some sedatives ready. If that’s the only way Tony’ll rest then so be it.”

 

Steve’s body refuses to move. He just stares helplessly at Rhodey and then down at Tony’s weak, frail form. He  _can’t_. Tony would hate feeling like he was-

 

“Steve.” Rhodey’s voice is softer this time. His dark eyes are full of compassion as he repeats himself. “He needs your help.”

 

Something snaps in his spine at that, making it straighten up for the first time in a month. Steve nods, shifting forward on his knees even as he slips one hand under Tony’s back and the other under his knees.

 

He’s too skinny. Steve feels like throwing up as he follows Rhodey out the door. He presses his hand a little harder against Tony’s back, lips pursed in an unnamed emotion as he feels Tony’s fluttery breath whisper past his Adam’s apple.

 

 _He’s alive. He’s okay_ , Steve reassures himself.  _It doesn’t matter if he hates me. So long as he’s alive._

 

> When he was too late

 

Grief, Steve has grown to realize, is an emotion you can never get used to. No matter how much you experience it, it can still blindside you and steal your breath away. There’s no protecting yourself from it, no bracing yourself. Maybe some times you can stand up against the onslaught but it’ll always be temporary.

 

Pepper holds Peter tight against her, eyes squeezed shut as the boy cries and cries and cries. Rhodey’s still as a statue on Tony’s left. He reminds Steve of Beleni’s sculptures for some reason. 

 

More and more people are gathering around them, joyful noises turning silent as they realize  _how_ they’ve won. And at what cost. Many other people are crying. The circle around them grows.

 

Thor takes a tentative step forward and gently touches Peter’s shoulder. “Come. Dry your eyes. He wouldn’t wish for you to mourn him so.”

 

There’s a split second of fire in Peter’s eyes like he wants to snap at Thor but it flickers out just as fast. The boy wipes a hand across his eyes with a miserable sounding sniff that sends another crack through Steve’s already broken heart.

 

“We need...” Pepper tries, voice cracking. It pulls Rhodey out of whatever headspace he’s in. He looks at her while she looks at Tony. “We should...move... him.”

 

“I’ll do it,” Steve winds up saying hoarsely. He swallows harshly and finds no comfort in the action. It just tastes like dried blood and hurts like hell. His blood must have been replaced with sharp pieces of glass because why else would his heart hurt so much? 

 

Pepper looks over at Rhodey, having some silent conversation Steve isn’t privy too but he needs to do this. “Please. Please let me Pepper.”

 

She rubs the flat of her palm against her cheeks. “Okay. I’ll... I’ll see where we can... We need to see who’s wounded. Who else did we lose. Who’s wounded.”

 

“Triage,” Rhodey agrees softly as he stands up. He holds his hand out towards Pepper but she’s back to looking at Tony.

 

Steve wants to  _wail_ when her trembling fingers gently close Tony’s eyes for the last time. She whispers something into his hair that even he can’t catch with his hearing before she stands up, on her own. With a hard sniff, she takes a step back.

 

It’s just four steps. But they’re neigh impossible to make. He may as well be Atlas, hefting the world on his shoulder and trying not to break his back. His shield has never felt so heavy. His eyes never so wet.

 

Steve sniffles, the wet sound of it carrying but he doesn’t care. He remembers the last time he’d carried Tony in his armor. How they’d joked, how Tony had ranted about getting revenge on Steve. How ultimately, Tony had done nothing except quietly thank Steve for his help.

 

He’s got so many regrets and his biggest one just might be that he got off on the wrong foot with Tony Stark and it took far too long to correct it. Or no. Perhaps his biggest regret is that he never put his faith in Tony Stark, not the way Tony trusted  _him_.

 

Steve wants to crawl under a rock and die when Tony’s body slides listlessly into his arms, gravity taking over. His arms hang limp, cheek pressed uncomfortably into Steve’s uniform. Steve's knees threaten to give out when he realizes Tony isn't breathing but he’s still warm. Hope and denial clash in his chest and leave a barren wasteland behind.

 

 _One step at a time_ , Steve tells himself as he pushes himself up on his feet. In front of him, a sea of superheroes parts.  _One step at a time. You can do this. You owe him this_.

 

Chin down, his tear stricken face buried in Tony’s hair, Steve begins his long walk out of the battlefield.


End file.
